


Sara

by Mariiie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotions, F/M, Romance, Soft Park Chanyeol, Sweet Park Chanyeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariiie/pseuds/Mariiie
Summary: This is the story of Park Chanyeol. This is the story of Sara. It can be one’s like it can be both’s, or maybe it simply belongs to no one.In the end, only the faint memory of it remains, the past snatches it away and the story becomes its to keep.
Relationships: Park Chanyeol/Original Character(s)





	Sara

If one was to ask him where he found his inspiration, Chanyeol would answer them  _ the night. _

He would answer the light from afar. The one that is reflected by the moon to brighten up the darkness, just enough to see through the gloomy air of the night. He would answer the shadows. The ones that every of his step creates as he walks under the numerous streetlamps and as he makes his way on the empty sidewalks. All that the night offers to the ones who still dare to peek from their blankets, everything that the darkness envelops outside the comfortable and heated rooms of our homes, all of what is hidden from most of them human beings.

All of it was for Chanyeol to welcome. Midnight walks were where the most mysterious, uncanny, and puzzling ideas would bloom in his mind. For stories like his, everything was to be considered. Every little aspect and detail was extremely important. Realism is key, but so is the unknown, the supernatural that brings and ties everything together. One may not believe in things that aren’t explained by the science, but it was Chanyeol’s goal to make the most scientific of them all doubt the so-called theories that rule this world.

Or at least… that’s what he wished.

_ “Mister Park Chanyeol, the newly found short stories’ writer that brings you uneasiness and shivers with every word he puts on paper!” _

The corner of his lips twitched inwardly as Chanyeol reminded himself these words over and over. Yes, one day, Park Chanyeol was going to be a known author. Even though he had to start from the complete bottom, he would find the perfect story and any publisher would fight to print it and have it under its name.

The sound of a rock hitting the sidewalk brought him out of his thoughts and he finally dared to look up. Chanyeol wasn’t sure what time it was, considering he’d been walking for a while and the clock showed midnight or so when he left his apartment. He surely was the only one around, though. The sidewalk was all his to walk on and the neighborhood seemed almost begging for him to kick on a rock again, just so the sound of it could fill the empty atmosphere.

It was almost  _ too _ quiet. Usually, the crickets would at least make an ambiance, as eerie as it was. At least there would be  _ something  _ to hear. But at that moment, there was simply nothing.

_ Quietness… Even the most comfortable silence can become the most unpleasant one until it simply becomes unbearable. A once sane mind slowly losing itself into a quiet madness. _

Out of uneasiness, Chanyeol quickly found another rock to toss away and he did just that. He heard as it fell down the sidewalk and on the asphalt of the road beside him. The clapping echoed, his surroundings welcoming the new sound, wanting to make it last as long as possible not to fall into the complete silence once again…

“This could be interesting…” He mumbled to himself, only then continuing his walk toward wherever his mind was bringing him. Like every night Chanyeol decided to go hunt for ideas, his steps brought him to the park not too far away from his apartment. One that, during the day, was filled with screaming children, couples on date and parents talking. One that was so lively when the sun shone on it, but when the moon took its place, none seemed invited to step on its grass.

_ Except for the ambitious writer. The delusional Park Chanyeol who wished to use his uneducated hand to write something worth the attention. _

The thought was pessimistic but almost realistic. How could a man with poor parents and no education come up with bright words and fancy sentences that linked to a powerful climax and shocking ending?

Well, Chanyeol, hopefully, would find the answer to that question sooner or later.

It was one of the main thought that kept him going whenever he made his way to the finely cut grass of the park. He didn’t have all the courage in the world but it did take him some to disappear between the trees to reach the center where a small pond, benches and a large playground had been installed for everyone’s convenience.

There was a bitter wind blowing once the man made his way to the vast area and he quickly put up the collar of his coat to cover his neck from the freshness of the night. There was a creaking sound in the distance and when his eyes followed the nature of the noise, he noticed one of the swings was slowly moving back and forth. The wind, maybe?

It would have been a plausible reason if it wasn’t for the two others on each sides staying completely still, totally unphased by the bitter weather.

Chanyeol felt a shiver running down his spine. Even though he had come for the suspicious actions of the night to warm up his neurons and hopefully find the subject to a new story, something in the corner of his mind yelled at him to get back home as soon as possible. He preferred not to listen to it and continued his way deeper into the area, eyes roaming around, attracted by every move of the branches that danced along with the wind.

The cold bursts stopped after a while and it was like everything came to a halt. Once again he was trapped in the heavy silence of the night, only his figure moving in the darkness. Everything else seemed to be paused. Even the clouds seemed to stop moving, the moon free to cast back the sinister light of midnight.

Chanyeol’s attention was brought back lower at that moment. Enough to see where he was going, but still high so he could catch any glimpse of any unnatural movements. His senses were on alert, his mind still begging him to turn around but he was simply too stubborn to.

_ He had to find something. An inspiration. _

The shadows of the nearby trees made the grass darker, drawing a clear line between the gloomy green and the darker one hidden from any source of light, but his eyes still caught  _ it _ .

It was darker than the grass itself, making it a pitch black hole in the ground. Curious, Chanyeol took a few steps toward it even though his mind created many “WARNING” signs displayed around. He was a few feet away when he finally stopped in his track, frowning. It was a hole. A dark hole in the ground and, from where the man was standing, he was unable to see the bottom. It must have been at least more than one meter deep and he started wondering as to why in the world someone had dug up a hole in a public park. During the day, anyone that would pass by would clearly notice it.

What was unusual about it, though, was the lack of dirt pile beside it. There was none. The one who had dug it must have brought the dirt away, probably. Like this, it looked like it had simply appeared there out of nowhere. It was a simple hole… yet it seemed to scream something to Chanyeol.

_ Come and look at me, what if I can help you find an idea? Anything? _

Any rational person would have simply walked away and continued their way as if nothing had happened.  _ No, actually, any rational person wouldn’t be out past midnight in such a place. _ That said, though, Chanyeol was not a rational person, and so he stepped even closer, taking the liberty to take his phone from his pocket and turn on the flash to have a better view of what was hiding inside.

What was in there was clearly going to give Chanyeol inspiration. That and way more. Ideas would have jumped at him, he probably wouldn’t have enough limbs to catch them all. They all pushed their ways up his mind so abruptly he felt his stomach turn and his throat constrict. His last meal was ready to be propelled out of his body, but it decided to stay well hidden when a voice filled the deadly silence.

“H… H-Help… Ple… P-Please…” And it came from the corpse Chanyeol thought dead laying down the hole.

It wasn’t so deep, probably around 4 or 5 feet down and just big enough to fit the body of the young woman that was inside, her clothes torn and stained. With the flash of his phone, the man could discern brown from the dirt and bright red from blood. Several cuts decorated the body of the woman laying down there, some deeper than others. They filled her arms, which were bare because of the light t-shirt she was wearing, and her legs were just as filled, her shorts barely covering anything as one stronger line had been drawn on her left thigh. She must have been freezing, so lightly clothed like this. And hurting, too, considering the number of cuts covering her body.

Her brown hair was a mess and Chanyeol quickly realized her face might have been spared from all the knife play. Only a few droplets of blood ran down her chin from her probably busted open bottom lip. Her eyes were closed but her lips were moving, words pleading.

“I-I know there’s someone… ple...p-please…”

Chanyeol knew he was not supposed to be there. What he had just found was very worth calling the police, or at least an ambulance, so they could help and he could go back home and try to forget the bloody sight down there. Yet there was something, a very little something that forced his feet to stay where they were. And then, a few seconds later, this same force pushed him to jump in the hole.

His feet landed with a thud on the dirt. The hole wasn’t so deep and, with his height, he wouldn’t have any problem climbing up again. He was quick to kneel down and looked at the woman, noticing that, this time, her eyes were open and staring at him.

Chanyeol was first struck by the paleness of her eyes. They were a beautiful blue color, which was a strange sight if you combined them with her almond eyes that showed a clear hint of her origins. His eyes then went down the rest of her facial features, finding her lips had curved into a small smile. He felt something cold landing on his knee and when he looked down, he saw her frail hand probably seeking some kind of comfort.

It seemed that he wasn’t at all bothered by the morbid scene in front of him. Chanyeol took hold of her hand, holding it tightly before giving the woman a comforting smile. “I’ll get you out of this.” He said confidently, though he had to convince himself some more about it as well.

The woman tried to nod her head and Chanyeol was quick to spot the pain in her eyes when she did. Something seemed to cloud her sight and the man realized that he very probably needed to hurry. Being as careful as he possibly could, he shifted in a better position and slid his arms under the body in front of him, slowly lifting her up until she rested in his arms. She barely weighed anything at all, he noticed, and all sort of questions started filling his mind.

Why was she there? Who put her there? What happened to her? Where was she from? Too many scenarios filled his mind, all more disgusting than the others and a sudden rage built up in his chest. Who  _ dared _ to hurt someone? A woman that seemed so vulnerable? It was stronger than Chanyeol, all the upsetting thoughts about giving whoever had done this the same treatment.

Chanyeol wasn’t really the type of getting angry to this point and the sudden desires surprised him. It must have been the shock of seeing someone in such a situation. He wasn’t being himself, in the first point, for daring to jump down and not mind his own business, so he might as well think things that weren’t caracteristic of himself either.

Slowly, very slowly, he put the body of the woman on the grass at the surface, making sure she was still awake before climbing up as well. He wasn’t surprised to find his own jeans turning brownish nor his coat to turn a dark red color, but he still felt his heart skip a beat. The small whimper of pain coming from the woman at his feet brought him back to reality -even though the events seemed more out of a dream than his simple and monotone life- and he was quick to take her back in his arms bridal style, looking around to find the park as empty and quiet as he had found it mere minutes ago...

_ Yet it felt like hours since he had found the hole, strangely. _

Chanyeol started taking a few steps ahead when he stopped in his track again. Where was he supposed to bring her? The hospital, probably… but it was at a rather long distance by walk and he cursed at himself for having the immensely smart idea to jump into the hole and take her out instead of calling for help. He clearly couldn’t let her there and leave, but if he was to call, they would ask why he had the not so brilliant idea to get her out of there in the first place. With blood now tainting his clothes and his fingertips all over the woman’s body, there wasn’t much the police could do for him if the real author of the act had done his job well. Being a writer about these kinds of stories, Chanyeol was supposed to know very well, yet the first thing that had come to his mind when he found the woman was to jump.

_ Foolish. _

The next rational thing that came to his mind -which wouldn’t even be considered rational- was, at this point, to simply bring the poor woman to his home and hope his own medical kit would do. While inspecting the cuts real quick, the moonlight making them a bit more visible, his general knowledge about medicine told him they didn’t seem that deep and would be considerably okay for him to clean. So to his apartment he would be going.

Chanyeol started walking again, this time with a more confident pace. He felt the woman shift in his arms but he couldn’t take too many pauses, risking to aggravate her injuries more than they already were. Instead, he kept his eyes on where he was going, being careful not to trip over anything. He felt the woman’s weak arms move up and her fingers slid, cold, around his neck. She then rested her forehead against his chest for support and Chanyeol wondered if, like this, she could hear his incredibly rapid heartbeat.

If she did, the woman didn’t say anything about it. It was hard for the man to make sure he could hear her exhaling when his own lungs worked so rapidly, his warm breathing forming steam in the cold air of the night. When they reached the edge of the park, Chanyeol looked around to find the street once again, completely empty. There were absolutely no cars passing by nor midnight walkers. He hoped it would stay this way until he would reach his apartment. After a few more looks left and right, Chanyeol cursed to himself and crossed the street, feeling completely naked in the open air with a bloody stranger in his arms.

***

Taking out a key from his pocket while holding someone was way harder than Chanyeol expected. His shaking fingers weren’t helping either, the fear of someone walking into the corridor and witnessing the scene made it all even more stressful. A loud sigh of relief finally left his lips when he closed the door shut with his feet quickly after entering his place, bringing the woman to his couch.

The apartment was, to say the least, incredibly tiny. The door gave to a small living room on the right where a small tv and a brown old couch sat. The low table between the two objects was filled with all sort of papers, some with flashes of ink that formed sentences he ended up abandoning while others had traces of unreadable pencil marks that he called brainstorms.

On the left, a small fortune kitchen with the simple necessities, the sink empty and clean like he preferred it. The door to his bedroom was further passed the tiny area and, on the other side of the kitchen supplies stood another door to the bathroom. Knowing he would never have the place -or money- for a suitable dining table, his living room was where he had the luxury to eat each of his meals.

Chanyeol looked down at his clothes once the woman was laying down his couch and he groaned, quickly heading to the bathroom, removing his coat, and dropping it in the shower for a further cleanup. His pants were mostly stained by the grass and dirt, so he dismissed it, rinsing his hands from the blood that was staining them before searching for the medical kit he kept in there.

All things gathered, Chanyeol made his way back to the only main room of his home, finding the woman eyes opened and staring at him. Again, the blue of her eyes left him speechless for a second before he hurried to her side, kneeling down to face her. “Can you speak?” He asked in a whisper, to which the woman nodded ever so slowly. “Alright… Alright..”

Chanyeol opened the kit, first searching for something to dress the deepest cut on her thigh with. It had continued bleeding while they reached his apartment and he had to stop the flow before cleaning the wound. He reached for the biggest bandage he had, wrapping the tissue around her leg tight enough to prevent the flow of blood from continuing its escape out of her body.

After tying it up, Chanyeol went back closer to the woman’s face, fumbling in his box to find something to clean the cuts with. He took out all that he had, knowing by the number of places to clean that he would probably need more than he actually had. “What’s your name?” He said, keeping his voice as soft as possible.

“S… Sara.”

The scratching sound of the cleaning tissue’s envelope being ripped off filled the room, almost muffling the woman’s quiet voice. Chanyeol looked up at her and he gave her a smile, nodding slowly. He reached for her arm, deciding to start from up and to go down, but when he was to grab her wrist, Sara tensed and the man quickly moved back. “I’m not going to hurt you, I only want to help.”

Chanyeol couldn’t not see the fear in the woman’s eyes when he looked back at her. Even slower than before, his fingers went to her small wrist, only brushing on her skin ever so slowly, showing he meant no harm. When she untensed, he simply lifted it up like he would lift a porcelain doll, moving her arm so he had a better reach of the several wounds.

“I’m Chanyeol, by the way.” His voice filled the room, hoping she would trust him a bit more if he talked about himself. “I write stories in newspapers. Nothing really amazing, though. But I try! I um… Midnight walks usually help me find inspiration for my stories. I needed to think about something to write about, so I went out and-” He stopped in his words and frowned a bit. “You know the rest…” He added simply and Sara nodded. Her eyes went down to his hand holding onto the alcohol-filled tissue.

“It’s going to hurt a bit.” He warned and she nodded slowly again. Her eyes stayed glued to Chanyeol’s hand as the other, very carefully, moved the wipe to one of the cuts near her wrists. He expected her to hiss when the cold tissue met her cut, but there was nothing, not even a flinch. When he looked up at her to see her expression, Sara was still looking at his hand on her pale skin.

His heart skipped another beat.

It went on for a while, Chanyeol making sure every cut was clean before applying a balm. The deeper cuts either had a band-aid or a bandage around them while the smaller ones were left in the open air. Sara stayed completely quiet as he worked his way down to her legs. It surprised him how she seemed unphased by what should have been a burning and itching sensation from the alcohol sanitizing the cuts. Maybe she was used to worse pain than that…

When he arrived at the most horrible part, he sighed, seeing some red spots had formed on the exterior of the bandage. “I hope it stopped bleeding…” He mumbled, reaching to unfold it when a hand reached his own. It was a bit warmer than before and it meant Sara had gained at least enough strength to heat up her body, which was a good sign. She was still cold, though, and would probably need a lot of rest. Chanyeol instinctively held the hand back, crawling back to face her properly again.

“It can wait, I feel a bit better.” She whispered to him, her voice seeming a bit stronger, which made the man smile immediately. Sara tried to smile back at him and he felt like she tightened her grip on his hand. “Thank you..” She added and Chanyeol could feel her thumb doing small circle pattern on the palm of his hand.

Minus the messy hair, the cracked lip, and the dirt covering her face, Chanyeol realized how stunning she was. Her blue eyes seemed surreal, her porcelain-like skin could have her being mistaken for an angel. Chanyeol could imagine her smiling brightly at him and the simple image of it made his stomach curl in both a pleasant and unpleasant way. Knowing he shouldn’t be feeling like this, his eyes quickly diverted away and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You… Do you think you can tell me what happened to you?”

His voice was soft as he attempted to know a bit more about what had happened. He simply couldn’t comprehend still how such a person could have been treated like this. The least he wanted was to scare Sara, though, so he needed to weigh every single word he’d say. Watching her eyes, he was relieved to see no negative reactions from her, though the lack of reaction itself wasn’t what he had wanted to see.

“I… Don’t really remember…” She mumbled, her thin eyebrows furrowing. Sara closed her eyes, forehead creasing as she seemed to think about something, anything, but in vain. She simply sighed and opened her eyes again. “I remember… there was a flash of light, then it was all dark and when I opened my eyes, all I saw were the stars in the sky. A while later, I heard steps. My body was hurting… And I called for help.”

Chanyeol never expected her to put so many sentences one after the other. Her voice was a bit hoarse and he took it as a quiet demand for, maybe, water. He was about to let go of her hand and stand but Sara kept her grip on him, not letting go. “Stay, I don’t need anything, it’s alright.” She said simply, her eyes begging and Chanyeol couldn’t even think about standing anymore. He nodded his head and, this time, sat down completely to be more comfortable.

The room stayed quiet for a little bit more, the ticking of the clock on one of the walls the only faint sound in the living area. Chanyeol allowed himself to stare at Sara’s deep blue eyes again, seeing how she seemed to lose herself in his as well. There was something odd in the air, filling his home. It was stronger than him and it seemed to have created some sort of bond between the two of them.

_ Even though the context was very far from convenient for this kind of things. _

“Tell me about you.”

Chanyeol was surprised to hear her break the silence first. Her voice threw him out of his daydream and he hummed, nodding slowly and trying to think of something to say. The question was a bit abnormal in this kind of context, but he figured she needed the silence to be filled with something,  _ anything _ , and this question only had popped in her mind. His eyes scanned the room, trying to, maybe, find some inspiration in whatever personal objects he had in the living room. There wasn’t much, though. The only things that could really relate to him were the panoply of papers filling the low table beside them and the small frame on top of the tv, in it the picture of two close friends: one with eyes filled with hope of a bright future and the other seemingly hiding horrible memories behind her faint smile.

Chanyeol found himself smiling a bit at the sight, his own memories replaying in his mind. “There isn’t much to say. Nothing really exceptional happens these days. I’ve been living by myself for a while, now… I used to live with my best friend, but now she is gone.” He said, his smile fading. When he looked over at Sara again, he noticed she had followed his eyes and was staring at the frame. There seemed to be something passing through her blue eyes, but Chanyeol couldn’t figure what emotion it was.

“What’s your favorite color, then?”

Very soon, the topic changed to something else, something more cheerful. Both shared their likings, some anecdotes, and experience. The two even cracked a laugh a few times. It was like the atmosphere had taken a complete turn, the events leading to their meeting long forgotten. Only the present mattered. There seemed to be so much to say, so much to learn about one another considering that they had just met a couple hours prior. Chanyeol never realized his hand was still linked with Sara’s as they talked. Everything seemed to be put aside, the man even witnessed sparkles in these pale blue eyes whenever she talked.

_ This sight, he would never forget it. _

It was getting early in the morning when the talks became less frequent, Chanyeol’s head laying on the edge of the couch, eyes fluttering closed. “Chanyeol.” Her voice was soft to his ear, it felt like he had known it for years and would recognize it anywhere. The man simply hummed, keeping his eyes closed out of exhaustion. The room stayed quiet for a while, though and, curious, he finally opened his eyes.

She was staring back at him, though something in her eyes seemed to have changed. Fear filled up the man’s chest and he went to sit up straight but she didn’t let him, smiling and ushering him to stay where he was. “I thought you’d fallen asleep.” She reassured him and he simply nodded.

“Thank you… For everything.” She whispered, her smile not leaving her lips. “I really thought I would end up dying alone in there..” Sara admitted, her hand that wasn’t holding Chanyeol’s reaching for his cheek. Her soft fingers brushed against his skin and the man instinctively leaned in her touch.

“We should get some rest, I’ll finishing cleaning your wounds in the morning, then everything will be alright, I promise.”

Her fingers didn’t seem willing to leave his cheek, lingering some more, her thumb doing shifting motions by his cheekbone, as if wiping nonexistent tears. Chanyeol closed his eyes again, the soothing movement only drawing him closer to his well-deserved sleep. At this point, he couldn’t even find the strength to lift his heavy eyelids anymore. It didn’t take long for sleep to take over, enveloping him in a warm blanket.

“Yes… everything will be alright.”

***

Chanyeol woke up to the sound of the television. He was completely lost at first, his surroundings familiar when he opened his eyes but the context completely forgotten. It took him a few seconds to remember all the events that had happened the night before, his sore neck confirming he had fallen asleep sitting on the floor with his head by the edge of the couch.

The news was playing, Chanyeol recognizing the monotone voice of the man reciting whatever had been happening either the day before or during the night. When he turned to the couch, he expected to see Sara staring at him with her hypnotizing blue eyes, but she wasn’t there. In fact, there were absolutely no traces of her. The couch was clean while it should clearly hold at least some red stains here and there.

Frowning, Chanyeol stood up slowly, inspecting his surroundings. There was no sound coming from the bathroom and, from his position, the man could see the door to the small room was opened. Everything seemed exactly as it was. What surprised him the most, though, was his coat. It was clean and nicely hung on one of the plastic hooks by the entrance door.

Was Sara able to stand, clean everything and disappear like nothing had happened? Chanyeol wasn’t sure she would have had the strength to do that after mere hours of rest. Especially because he hadn’t taken the time to clean the wounds on her legs yet.

Feeling his own get wobbly due to the odd feeling floating in his chest, Chanyeol sat, the corner of his eyes spotting his cellphone on the low table in front of him. Certain he hadn’t even taken the device out of his pocket, Chanyeol took it and unlocked it as a habit, looking up at whatever news was being told on the television.

It felt like his heart stopped beating when he recognized where the journalist was standing. Behind him, police and other security employees roamed around. It was the park Chanyeol knew too well. Under the journalist’s upper body, at the bottom of the screen, he could read:

_ Breaking news: Dead body of a woman found in a hole of municipality park. _

_ “It was a pretty hard morning for the city. Thanks to an anonymous man who called to prevent the police a bit past midnight, we found the body of a woman in a hole dug in the middle of the city’s public park. The authorities haven’t pronounced themselves about the event yet, but we got to learn the death occurred during the evening yesterday. She was found with many cuts on her body but we haven’t been told if it would be the reason for the death or not. More information to come, this was-” _

Chanyeol turned off the television with shaking hands, letting go of the remote immediately after as if it had been burning his skin.  _ This couldn’t be _ . It was simply impossible. He had found her! He brought her to his house and cleaned her wounds. She wouldn’t simply go back there while he was sleeping, would she? But then again, hadn’t the authorities mentioned she had already been lifeless way before Chanyeol even put his two feet in the park?

Taking his phone in his hands, Chanyeol found it unlocked still where his previous calls were listed. He didn’t remember leaving it there when he last used it, but most importantly, he didn’t remember calling the police a bit past midnight, yet it was there on his screen, listed white on back.

Chanyeol would have laughed it off if he didn’t feel the soft yet cold feeling of Sara’s fingertips lingering on his cheek still, more vivid than a simple dream.

***

When I sent this short story to publishers, it was simply out of curiosity. The story always meant more to me than its content might have attracted a public, so I was rather surprised when I received a call, around a month or two later, saying someone wanted to meet me to talk about it.

I was surprised, but also incredibly happy. Usually, when publishers call you, it’s because they’re happy with what you delivered them, right? It means they want to meet the author and have a further talk about the words they finely aligned and, maybe, some contractual talking about a further printing process.

Out of punctuality -and also nervousness, I arrived 20 minutes early, sitting in the waiting room while my fingers absentmindedly tapped a recurrent beat on my lap. The place seemed rather nice, people fancily clothed walking around with piles of files in their arms, going from doors to doors. The women’s heels on the wooden floor, the ringing of the phone at the secretary’s desk as well as the low talking filled the room and I was relieved it wasn’t a complete silence that accompanied me during the wait.

“Mister Park Chanyeol.”

I quickly stood when my name was called, wiping my moist hands on my pants before heading to a lady and bowing to her. Her eyes scanned my figure before she smiled and stretched her hand toward me, which I warmly shook.  _ Act professional, your career might follow a turning point. _ I reminded myself.

“Mister Jung is ready to receive you, please follow me.” She said and turned on her heels, stepping into the other room and I followed her. Again, many doors aligned on each side. We turned a corner and passed by an open area that seemed like an employee’s snack space. The hallway stopped at a door with ‘ _ Director Jung Minjun _ ’ written on it.

The lady, probably the director’s assistant, knocked two times before opening the door and peeking in. “Park Chanyeol is here, director.”

“Yes, let him in.”

The door opened wider and the woman let me in. I stepped inside, seeing just in time as the director replaced the cover page of a pile of stapled papers. Dark ink on the white paper formed words that I had stared at for so long before having the courage to mail it.

_ Sara _

_ A short story by Park Chanyeol _

The director stood and walked to me, his hand reaching for mine and shaking it confidently. “Ah, I’m finally meeting you in person! I’m glad you accepted a meeting, please take a seat.” The man spoke and I nodded, sitting on one of the two chairs in front of his desk, my hands resting on my lap and my back straight. Jung Minjun sat as well, looking down at the small pile of paper and tapping it gently.

“I think this is a very nice story. Not the best I have read, but something that could be worked on and end up with good critics. I like the images you created and the ambiance you put up, and I think you have the kind of potential we’d like to take care of in this company.”

As I listened to his words, I could only smile. The man was offering me a change in my daily life that I could only accept. If I had the chance to do something bigger than write drabbles in a newspaper barely anyone read, then I would jump right into it. There was no time to look behind when the opportunity you had might fade at any second, as comfortable as the routine might have been.

“I was wondering, though, this is mostly out of curiosity, but…” The director stared down at the front page, one of his eyebrows raised. “You used your name for the main character of it and, while comparing it with your information you provided me, you seem to have described yourself in your character. Was there a reason behind it? Did you perhaps lived a similar experience?”

Somehow, I knew I would be asked this. I leaned back in the comfortable chair, humming and staring down at the bolded word on top of the document.  _ Sara _ .

“I wouldn’t say I rewrote what I truly went through, but some things can be considered real, while others cannot.”

***

The afternoon that followed, I went to the flower shop and bought a bouquet of twelve yellow roses. It was rather warm, that day, so I left my coat open as I walked on the sidewalk. It had been a while since I last went  _ there _ , but I felt like a visit wouldn’t hurt, especially after what had just happened. I had to let her know about it. Deep inside, all I wished was for her to be proud.

The cemetery wasn’t so far away and I made it to the entrance, staring up at the large metal fences before walking in. The sun was still high in the sky and the trees’ shadows made its rays a bit more bearable. The walk was familiar as I knew exactly where she was. Where her tombstone lay, traces of dried bouquets of yellow roses were there still. I didn’t think they would have stayed there for weeks. I was glad the weather hadn’t brought them away. I kneeled to put down the new bouquet among the ashes of the others, looking up at the stone with a small smile ghosting on my lips.

_ Lee Sara _

_ Even though you were our shining star, _

_ it’s a shame you found more happiness in the sky _

I passed my fingers on the grass and deemed it was dry enough for me to sit on the ground without tainting my pants. I was still in the clean clothes I took so much time choosing for my meeting with the publisher and it wouldn’t be nice to have them already soiled. I decided to sit nonetheless, though, knowing I would have a lot to say.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I said, having the habit of inspecting the large stone in front of me. It had become familiar, all the little cracks, I knew them by heart. It didn’t take me long to notice a new one in the right corner up.

“Lots of things happened since the last time I came to talk to you… Most importantly, I wrote something that might have given me the chance to become a real writer. It’s about you.”

For all the times I went to sit in front of her to talk, it wasn’t weird anymore to be talking by myself. I was used to getting no answer, but I still felt a painful feeling in my chest. “It’s about… us, actually.

“It’s the story of a man that finds someone on the brim of death in a hole. Without the man finding that person, there would have been no chance of survival. But the man, as weird as he is, instead of calling for help, decides he will help on his own, no matter the consequences that could come.

“You could say he is blinded by something. By what, though? A strange force, maybe? A feeling he has in his chest that he needs to save that person. That he, personally, takes the responsibility of helping because, deep inside, he wants it to be the right thing to do.

“So the man brings the girl to his home. She doesn’t complain and she watches silently as he tries his best to clean her wounds. She stops him midway and turns the atmosphere completely, saying she is fine. So they talk during the whole night and eventually fall asleep. When the man wakes up, he’s alone…”

I felt a lump in my throat and stopped, looking down at my crossed legs then looking high up in the sky. It was harder to say it than to simply think about it.

“In a matter of minutes, the man learns that the woman is dead, that she was found in the hole he took her from, that her physical wounds weren’t clean, that he didn’t bring her home to save her. That he, without knowing it, called to announce it because it was already too late. Something he didn’t comprehend was that her destiny was already traced. But, deep inside, he knows he helped her reaching the other side with care and attention like one should be leaving this world. He thought he could dress her wounds and remove the pain away, but it was already too late. So maybe,  _ maybe _ , when he saw her smile and when her eyes sparkled when she spoke, maybe it was her spirit gaining the comfort it needed before passing to the other side. That’s how he helped her.”

I felt a tear run down my cheek and was quick to wipe it away. “I think that deep inside, that’s what I saw in what truly happened, Sara. It’s the image I gave to myself when I saw my help would never truly reach you. I truly wish I could have had taken you out of this hell. It’s the first thing I thought when you first told me about your dark thoughts, about the demons that haunted you. I wished… I wished we were more than best friends, I wanted to show you what love feels like so maybe then you would feel less lonely…

“I can’t blame you for what you did. I hoped it could have ended differently, but I tell myself that if you stayed with me for so long, it’s probably because I made your days a bit easier to go through, right?

“In the story I wrote, I called the woman Sara and the man, Chanyeol. I found you in this hole where, mentally, you had cuts everywhere. I brought you to a safe place and tried to clean your mental wounds and make you happy. You said you felt better, you thanked me, but then you left this world, leaving behind a scarred body and a farewell note. You might have known it was too late, but you let me care and I was glad you did.”

_ The sight of your sparkling eyes, Sara, I will never forget it. _


End file.
